


In Sleep

by Katalyna_Rose



Series: Kahlia Mahariel [17]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-04
Updated: 2016-10-04
Packaged: 2018-08-19 10:58:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8203216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katalyna_Rose/pseuds/Katalyna_Rose
Summary: Even in sleep, Kahlia was defending herself. Zevran watched, studying his love, wishing she would accept the tactile comfort he so desperately wanted to offer. But she would not. Would she?





	

Even in sleep, Kahlia was defending herself. Zevran watched as she breathed shallowly, barely moving her chest as she did. She was lying on her side. One hand was curled into a loose fist beside her face so that she could hide behind it at a moment’s notice and protect her face. Her other hand was gripped between her thighs, her arm crossed over her belly. Rather than having her knees drawn up to her chest, her heels were tucked into her backside to protect the tender flesh on the backs of her thighs and behind her knees.

As Zevran watched, her features twitched into a slight scowl, and her fist tightened. She moved half off her pillow, still unused to such luxuries. As fear began to bleed into her features, Zevran struggled with his instincts. Once, he would have wrapped his arms around her, surrounding her with his warmth and offering comfort. Without waking, she would have relaxed into his hold and snuggled deeper before sighing and drifting into more pleasant dreams. Now, he knew he couldn’t do that. She would wake fighting if he did, and that would hurt them both. He’d tried it once, in the beginning. She’d frozen up, and then woke struggling. She’d slashed her nails across his face and fallen off the edge of the bed in her scramble to get away. He didn’t try it again.

“Kahlia, my love,” he whispered, keeping his hands to himself. “You are safe, Kahlia. You are free.” He reminded her of these things in a whisper, watching her face closely. If her scowl smoothed out, he would know that the nightmare had passed. If she opened her mouth to pant silently, barely moving, he would know that it was getting worse and he needed to wake her. If she did not respond at all, then she would wake into a flashback that would leave her shaken for days and he needed to wake her up immediately and prepare them both for the aftermath.

“Kahlia, we are in Antiva,” Zevran told her. He’d found that telling her where she was often helped. “We are at home, in Antiva City. It is the fourth day of Harvestmere. You are safe here. I will never let anything hurt you again.”

She whimpered slightly, startling him. She never made noise in her sleep. She had learned quickly, she’d told him once, that noise drew the darkspawn’s attention. They wouldn’t leave her be if she was silent and still, but she was more likely to be overlooked for a few moments. And so she was silent, startlingly so. She’d frightened him a couple of times when she came upon him without so much as the whisper of a breath to announce her presence. He’d had to learn to temper his reactions so that he didn’t immediately draw a blade and threaten her with it when she caught him off guard. Her silence wasn’t one of the new parts of her that he wanted to change. In fact, it was damn useful. She went with him when he took contracts, and she often made the final kill as he distracted the mark. She was so silent that their targets didn’t even know they were dead until they were greeting the Maker, her blade severing their spinal cord just below their skull.

She whimpered again, and Zevran bit his lip and struggled with the urge to touch her. He wanted to brush the strand of dark red hair away from her face. He wanted to smooth his thumb gently over her cheek and watch her lean into the touch in her sleep. He missed indulging in her touch as he once had. He was a very tactile person, and would touch others often. He would put a hand on a friend’s shoulder to steer them through a crowd, bump his shoulder against another as he made a joke, or wrap an arm around someone as he greeted them. With Kahlia, once, she had welcomed his touch and his tactile affection. Now, he had to resist these urges. She would jump and move away from his touch. She often didn’t even realize what had happened, had no idea that she avoided him like she did. He knew why, tried to respect it, but when she was having a nightmare it was so hard to resist even though he knew that touch would make it worse for her.

“Kahlia, my love, you are safe,” he told her again, barely breathing the words. Her scowl became a frown, and she looked confused, vulnerable, and so very young. It was hard to believe that she’d been just barely eighteen when she became a Grey Warden. After six years in what she referred to as The Pit, she was far too young to be so hurt. Even before The Pit, she had been wise beyond her years. He hadn’t believed her when she’d first told him her age, as they lay side by side in her tent, completely naked. He’d asked because he couldn’t get a read on her. Sometimes he would have sworn she was older than him, but sometimes she looked almost like a child. He’d loved that about her, still did, even though the child was nearly buried under the weight of her pain.

Her lips parted in her sleep, and Zevran was about to wake her from her nightmare when she sighed deeply and reached out. He froze as the hand that normally shielded her face made contact with his arm. He was certain she wake up then, and fight against his assurances, but she did not. She clutched at him, pulling slightly on his arm. He swallowed hard and scooted closer. The hand she gripped between her thighs to deny the darkspawn access to her vagina reached out and crossed his chest, resting her palm on his bare skin. She pressed her forehead against his arm and he felt her take another deep breath and sigh against him. She settled then, and breathed deeply in sleep instead of the shallow pants he was used to.

And there, in the darkness of their bedroom, Zevran grinned up at the ceiling and cried for her. She had reached out in her sleep and sought his touch as comfort, and he cried with the depth of his happiness that she might heal yet. His Kahlia, so strong and beautiful and broken, could be whole again, given time.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so Kahlia and Zevran are clamoring loudly in my head for more backstory...
> 
> "Oh, my dear, you are not being fair to us! Kahlia and I are more than what you have given us in Vhenan, don't you think?"
> 
> "Oh, quit it, Zev. She'll give a shit when she gives a shit and not a second sooner."
> 
> Well, guys, you're both such sour, manipulative, wonderful bastards that you get more story now. Thanks for interrupting my dreams with this one last night...


End file.
